Copacetic
by Miss Macabre Grey
Summary: I love him. Or maybe I loved who he had been? Didn't matter. He didn't love me back, and I had to deal with the slowly fading -shattering- denial. I remember him, remember trying, and I really, really should have known. He should have known I would be too far into denial to figure out completely, but I still always knew. -Ryo POV. Angstshipping. Implied Thiefshipping in the end.


I remember when I first had the idea for this story it was about 12:30 at night. The idea PLAGUED me until at last at 1:20 (I wake up at 4:50) I started typing like a mad genius. This story has so many emotions and in a style not normally my own that it took weeks to actually complete. I guess one could call this angstshipping, but that's not really the point; it focuses on Ryo and all the emotional horrors that happen to pass him by seamlessly as a natural change to the world. No matter what your usual preference is, I can _almost_ GUARANTEE you'll like this story for one reason or another - even if you dislike you'll like it.

* * *

"How's dinner coming along?" I heard Marik ask stepping into the kitchen. The blond had just gotten home, and he looked fatigued and stressed. His eyes barely stayed open, and he sat limply on "his" chair by the kitchen table.

"It's coming along," I told him. My eyes are full of care and worry. I stopped preparing the food for a moment to approach him slowly. I extended my hand to touch his arm, but he snapped at me with a newfound energy.

"DON'T TOUCH ME!" he bellowed, eyes enraged and large. I pursed my lips and tried to hide my hurt expression. Before I turned my back on him, I saw a small pang of guilt on his face. "I'm. . ." I waited for him to finish with even my back visibly hopeful. "I'm going to the bedroom. Bring me a plate when you finish."

My shoulders instantly went slack.

"Yes, Marik," I told him simply, hearing his footsteps already walking away before I even bothered speaking.

I continued making dinner in the lonely silence, almost wishing there were at least mice in the walls to keep me company. I never faulted him for being stressed and tired, but I never understood why things turned out the way they did. We had a wonderful relationship at first, for many years, and I loved him, but. . . .

I heard the oven beep, signaling that dinner had finished baking. I hated cooking dinner; it was always dry and boring. Marik was vegetarian, and he could barely even stomach seeing people eat meat. (Well, that's a lie. I always got too excited about my meat and food in general, so mostly just seeing my eating meat repulsed him). Anyway, I cared for him so much that I cut it from my diet as well, but truthfully I always wanted even a measly meatball once and awhile. I never made it seem like a sacrifice on my part - Marik's comfort easily encompassed a trivial want like certain foods, but Marik never even said thanks for the meals I made him. To be honest we had not eaten together regularly in weeks.

I never minded. He was busy and stressed, so I didn't want to put more weight on his shoulders. He still asked for a hug and a kiss before going to work sometimes, so that was at least a little something. Sometimes he made a face after I did it - like he was guilty or confused - but I attributed that to our lack of doing it regularly anymore. When he left for work I stayed home for another hour or so before getting ready to leave myself.

I owned at a magic shop in town with all sorts of interesting items and books. A lot of people considered everything as mere toys, but I revealed a few genuine trinkets occasionally. I set everything by categories: potions, spells and incantations, charm items, children's toys, and a game section specified to only carry magic-related board games and magic-themed playing cards. The cards were very popular among the boys, and the girls tended to want me to make special potions and such (and some tried to use a few love charms and spells on me). I personally always loved playing table-top RPGs, but I had little people to play with me. Marik used to when I first opened up the shop, and he helped everything get started, but he had no real interest,especially now. I liked when he used to do the little things like play games with me after his old part-time job, but that ended too soon.

Regardless, I put a slice of the vegetarian pasta on a plate once it cooled, and I walked over to our bedroom. Even though I knew the door was unlocked, I knocked to let him know I would come in. Marik never replied to my knocks, but he still demanded that I let him be aware. At one time I never needed to knock, and he would welcome me lovingly, but he needed to rest lately, and I knew I would be rude to just barge inside. The unspoken rule was to wait a few moments before coming inside, so I did.

Marik opened the door for me, and let me in. His smile seemed a little forced, but I beheld him for the small effort. "Smells good," he told me taking whiff.

"Thank you. I'll be in the family room working on new strategies for my Reborn Occult RPG. If you need anything, just tell me, okay?"

He nodded, but I knew he had more to say. "Ryo?" Marik asked me with a gentle kindness I had not heard in so long. "Would you like to, uh, have sex tonight? Maybe after dinner? You can say no, but it's been awhile, and it's kinda nice once and awhile."

I never have been a sexaholic, but I really did miss the interaction. Sex also used to be spontaneous, but surprises were hard to plan with busy lives. My smile was faint, but I was genuinely elated to be asked that. "After dinner," I told him, kissing him on the cheek.

He remained stiff and didn't kiss back. "Later, then," he said slowly shutting the door again seemingly the moment I stepped away from the doorway.

-Copacetic-

I ate dinner quickly in the family room, and rolled my dice a few times to practice. Marik ate slower than I did by a lot, so I had no reason not to play a little. I improved my rolls, and figured how to get a few more critical hits. I could get critical hits easily with two ten-sided dice, but the game needed one thirteen-sided die and another nine-sided die. The fact I was taking so long to figure out the best throwing techniques was frustrating me. On a new mid-throw I felt something catch my hand that made me fumble my whole roll. I was only upset for a moment when I realized the reason why.

"Did you make this game yourself?" Marik asked me, curious about the game before me.

"Not really. Someone asked me to try playing it. I need to tell him what needs to change and whatnot. Do you, uh, want to play with me?"

He shook his head. "Depends, I guess. I just came out to tell you that I'm done eating and washing up a little. Though, I think bathing was nowhere near the front of your mind," he told me just before leaning in to lick a speck of sauce on my lips. The action enticed me, so I licked my lips, and kissed him back.

I opened my mouth to invite his tongue inside, and he eagerly went exploring. We had not done anything in so long that he had to thoroughly brush his tongue inside all nooks and crannies in my mouth to familiarize himself. I, on the other hand, never forgot his warm cavern, and tried to slip in a few times. I desperately missed the intimacy, but the few times it happened my heart was delighted beyond compare. I did not try to further the kisses for awhile, but I sensed something odd in the way heheld me. Our lips and tongues were going at it regularly, but he almost seemed to avoid touching me otherwise. I began to unbutton his shirt, but I felt Marik tense a little before allowing it.

Marik did everything right, I guess. We kissed, touched, nipped, held each other so closely, but it all seemed very forced. Marik barely even looked at me when he removed my clothes. My lover looked like he was in such pain when he entered my barely prepped entrance. His moans were brief if there at all, and his movements were jagged. I closed my eyes, and forced some moans to come out, probably to fool myself into thinking I was enjoying it more than I really did. Normally he would at least pump me if he was the one penetrating, but instead my own insecure hand had to stroke my mostly hardened shaft to the current of his rough thrusts. Marik tried to put us into new positions to get more pleasure and to keep things lively, but even then it seemed mostly one-sided.

I remember a time I would feel such immense pleasure from every touch I would orgasm almost instantly, but during that particular round of sex, I was lucky just to get hard. Marik seemed to notice, but he didn't ever comment. He came on my stomach after long enough, and stood up.

"Want a towel or something?" he asked without looking at me. He didn't even offer to finish me off, and I think that alone really killed any arousal I had left.

"I'll just take a shower. I was already sweaty, so now it seems even better to bathe," I replied sitting up with a bit of displeasure.

"Oh," he said simply. "I'll start the water so it's warm for you, I guess."

"Yeah, thanks." I saw him walk away to the hall where the bathroom was, but still I cried out, "I love you, Marik."

I guessed he was too far away to hear me.

-Copacetic-

Marik's alarm didn't go off the next morning, and he was running late by half an hour when he did wake up. He looked pissed beyond belief, and I avoided him as I tried to get ready myself. I asked Marik if something important was going on, but he just gave me a frustrated grunt that he was apparently getting close to something. He was so angry and frustrated I didn't ask any more questions. When he left I saw that he forgot his house keys, but I figured that I would be home before him anyway, so I left them there.

I packed myself a small salad lunch, and grabbed the game from last night before heading to my shop. The person pitching the game to me would have been arriving in an hour after I open shop, so I cleaned a little before officially opening. Only a few customers came in asking for any new card shipments, but other than that the place was rather dull. The new game-maker didn't even bother showing, so all my practicing the night before was for nothing.

Since the place was pretty much empty, I decided to call Marik when I knew he would be on lunch break, but the phone apparently disconnected. Marik paid the phone bill, and he always paid on time because he hated the idea of ruining his credit over something so trivial, so I couldn't figure out why the company would cut us off. Nonetheless, I figured a personal visit wouldn't be too bad an idea, since we hardly hung out unless it was forced at home. I flipped the "open" sign to "closed" on the door before locking it and rushing off to Marik's job.

We lived in what could be classified as a city, but it was still on the small-side. Marik's job was only about fifteen minutes from my shop including red lights, so couldn't find harm in escaping the shop for maybe an hour. I went a little above speed limit and caught almost every green light, so I even made it in about ten. The building was towering, one of the tallest in the city, and Marik worked around floor three doing articles for a news magazine. He wasn't really a reporter, but he looked up interesting events and weaved them together masterfully in every new article. I had a feeling Marik was trying to discover something on his own, something personal for himself to really understand, and I really hoped for the best.

I walked inside to the front desk. The receptionist recognized me from company events, but she looked oddly surprised.

"Hello, ma'am. Can you call Marik Ishtar's desk? Tell him Ryo came to have lunch," I requested politely.

Her face softened a bit, but she still looked confused. "Sorry, hun. Marik hasn't been showing up for work for days. Rumor has it he'll be fired within the week. Want me to try his cell?" she asked with what I'm sure was the best of intentions.

"No, thanks," I told her evenly, trying to hold myself together.

I walked to my car with a "humph" in every step. He hadn't shown for days. _Days_. How could he? Where the hell was he going every morning that made him "so close"? I couldn't imagine him lying to me for so long, but with his behavior at the time, anything could have possible. Naturally, I began making all sorts of theories.

None of them were good.

-Copatcetic-

I went home after talking to Marik's job. I was so hurt I could barely even drive, so I made sure to rest a bit the moment I walked in the front door. I saw the clock on the stove from the corner of my eye read 1:38 in bright green letters, and all I could think when I saw that was that I still had to wait another 5 hours before Marik would come home. I walked in our bedroom andcollapsed on the bed. I slept on Marik's side, breathed in his scent, stared at the plainness of his nightstand, and most importantly hoped for his return before I fell into a nap.

When I next awoke I saw the clock read 5:57, and I decided to begin dinner. If Marik and I were to talk civilly about what was going on, I wanted to make a nice meal to ease the tensions. I had not been to the store in awhile, though. I checked the refrigerator, and saw half a head lettuce that needed to be eaten soon, some shredded cheese, some nuts, and apples. Salad, it was. Truthfully, I was getting a bit ill physically with such a vegetarian diet. At least Marik liked what I made him. I wanted to make Marik happy because I really did, well. . . .

I waited for another hour before eating, trying to play games to distract myself and failing. My entire body shook, anxiously waiting for Marik to just come inside and assuage my fears. I heard a car pull in nearby, and I instantly rushed to the door. Before even looking at who just parked in the window I literally threw the door open, only to almost fall on my knees when I saw my neighbor exiting his loud truck.

With a heavy spirit, I limped inside. I decided to eat dinner alone, again. I waited after dinner for him, munching on carrots at the pace of on per five minutes to pass the time. I got sick of waiting and tried to play games, but I quickly loathed playing alone again. I tried to watch some distracting tv, but only sappy, romantic, "happy ending" chick flicks were on. I jumped when Iheard the phone ring, and just so the gods could spite me more, I heard my friend Yugi's voice on the other end and quickly hung up. I became more aware that Marik would not be coming home that night.

I gave up.

-Copacetic-

I awoke with no one else home. I didn't set my alarm, but I didn't care that I needed to be at work in a half hour. I barely brushed any of my long white hair, and threw on the daybefore's barely dirtied clothes. I cried a little the night before, but not nearly enough to seem obvious. I had nothing left to do but begin a lonely, sad day in confusion. Grabbing my keys near the door, I went outside and shut the door behind me.

When I went to lock the door, though, I found a folded letter taped near the handle. It read: "to Ryo" in Marik's handwriting, and I instinctively tore it from the door to read it.

The handwriting looked neat and thoughtful at first glance, but with more observation one could tell the letter was written with no idea of what to say. The opening line was "Ryo," but I could see beneath the scratch marks where Marik had written the word "Dear." Already the note said all it needed to say, but I read more, read every last heartbreaking word.

_Ryo,_

_Sorry for not coming home last night. If you were worried, stop that. I won't be coming back home again, so don't bother worrying; we both know how bad you handle worry. Anyway, we've become really distant over the past few, what, weeks? Months? Regardless, I know it was greatly my fault, but I don't want to put the blame all on me. You haven't changed much, but I think that was part of the problem. I've been changing, Ryo, and you weren't/aren't what needed/need. I blame Bakura, someone I met awhile ago. I don't know when, but he's just become my everything. I kept telling myself you're who matters, but I couldn't when I kept seeing Bakura. Know that I never once cheated on you physically, but Bakura and I have been chasing and wanting each other mentally for months. _

_Eventually I drove him past his patience and he kissed me. I didn't kiss back at the time, but wanted nothing more than to give into desire and make love with only him. I came to you that night angry and agitated, but you barely consoled me, emotionally or physically even though I know you tried._

_I decided it's time for us to end this. We don't have any connection anymore. I want to be able to tell you that it's not so bad and that it wasn't a waste of time, but it feels like that to me. I'm sure I loved you a lot at first, but I doubt it was ever in the right sense. My love for you died quickly, and I wasn't sure how to move past you to love for real. Now you and I can both move on and do what we think is right. I'm leaving you to be with Bakura, and I'm sorry if this is a surprise, though it really shouldn't be."_

The last line of the note also had a few scribbles that looked originally to be "Love, Marik," and another part that was "Sincerely, Marik," but in the end, the last words he wrotewithout scratches were "Goodbye, Ryo."

I took a deep breath and clutched my stomach. I felt horrible: bitter, abandoned, betrayed, annoyed. I wanted to shred the note and pretend I never read it, but it was too late for that. I already let the words sink in and consume me. Marik obviously didn't love me enough to even meet with me one last time, but I still loved him. With my entire body shaking, I walked to the trash can, held up the note, and ripped it into pieces into the steel container. My feelings were as ripped apart as that damn letter.

I took another deep breath, and although a little crooked, a smile spread over my lips. Since I was already outside, I got in my carand put in the keys with no destination in mind. I turned the radio on and hummed an upbeat pop song I hadn't actually known the rhythm of. Before I even knew where I was driving, I noticed myself parking in a mostly empty parking lot of a family-owned restaurant. Since I was indeed hungry, I went inside.

My senses were completely overwhelmed. The place resonated a good breakfast environment with the smell of bacon, and eggs, and sausage filling my nose. I almost collapsed instantly from the overpowering smells I barely recognized from all my time with Marik.

A waitress with a kind smile walked to me, but I hardly noticed what she was saying as I followed her to a two-person booth. She passed me a menu, and my eyes popped seeing the cover of such succulent meat and foods on the cover. Before she even took out her notepad to take my drink order I asked for one of everything with meat.

She looked surprised, but I insisted I wanted exactly what I had said the first time. I remember being so excited, so happy. I wanted nothing more than to eat mountains of sausage and ham and bacon or whatever else they had meaty. The waitress returned with one plate of what I ordered for me ready, and I greedily engulfed nearly half of it in one bite.

The waitress backed away and asked me if I was okay, but I ignored her and continued eating. She walked away, attending to the only other customers that had just walked in, and I continued eating.

Though I ignored her question verbally, I knew the answer: I was not okay at all. With every sinful bite a tear escaped my eyes, and guilt filled my heart even more than the cholesterol. I ate and ate, but I never really got full.

No ham was as sweet as Marik. No sausage was as spicy as Marik. No egg was as pure as Marik. No turkey was as fulfilling as Marik. As I sat there crying, I realized nothing would ever replace or compare to Marik.

At least, at the time, I hadn't tried the bacon.

* * *

I sent this story to a few of my friends before publishing it, and their reactions were interesting. Each definitely likes the story, but one specifically had an interesting interpretation of the last sentence. She thought the bacon was legitimately going to make Ryo happy, and that SO is not the case. The end reflects how Ryo wants to be full (completed emotionally), and happy, and loved, and just completely cared for, but nothing will replace Marik. A waitress couldn't care for Ryo like he wanted, and no food would fulfill him, he knows that, but if there are things to try then he'll still have to give it a chance because he can't help but want to believe he isn't in as much pain as he is. Ryo, ironically, knows he's hopeful, desperate, broken, but ultimately unchanging.

Hope you all liked and PLEASE REVIEW.


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